


Cygnus

by nayanroo



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Post-Ragnarok
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-09-20
Packaged: 2018-02-15 15:52:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2234718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nayanroo/pseuds/nayanroo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A murder case brings together Luke Serrure, a lawyer specializing in defense cases, and Sylva Skjold, the detective who worked the case.  Animosity becomes attraction and something more, but it's not the only force at work in the city that never sleeps.  As more and more strange events happen the deeper into the case they both get, their relationship is tested.  Will it withstand the truths they discover, or will it burn?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been mulling this idea over for a _long_ time, and finally for whatever reason it sunk its claws into me and I had to start working on it. I've got a lot handwritten for it, but will only put it out slowly so my notebook fills faster than the work here does.
> 
> The inspiration for this might be obvious from the title.

“It's the same dream every night.”

“The same dream?”

“More like a nightmare. I've had it nearly every time I've closed my eyes for as long as I can remember. It's not the memory of trauma or anything to trite, but...”

“...why don't you tell me about this dream, if you're comfortable.”

“It's always the same. In the beginning, there is fire.”

*

Thirty stories down, traffic along Park Avenue crawled along; if the windows could open, more noise would be leaking through, more heat coming into the office, the life of a city always on the move. Staring down from this height, Luke Serrure felt as satisfied as a king might when he surveyed his subjects and his kingdom. 

The illusion was shattered by a knock, followed by the door opening and the sound of authoritative, or perhaps angry, footsteps on his plush carpeting, and Luke turned. If the people of New York City were his subjects, the others who worked at Seider Law Firm were his court, and considering he was on the fast track to be the youngest Senior Partner in the history of the firm, it wasn't far from the truth. The interns and grunt workers who were one year out of law school lived in fear of him, the other Junior Partners wanted to be him (or be on him), and all the rest (save Helena herself, of course) were looking over their shoulders constantly, knowing he was breathing down their necks. In the case of Laura Leye, a newly-minted Junior Partner, it was definitely the _be on him_ option, and the glower she fixed him with as she dumped a stack of files on his desk with as much force as gravity would allow was the fallout of that. She had been a fun diversion but had become far too possessive as of late, and he had no time for it. He had declared their latest romp to be their last, and she had not taken it well.

“Thank you for delivering those so promptly, Miss Leye,” he told her with his most winning smile. “Always a pleasure.”

Laura's eyes narrowed. “You're a prick,” she hissed. “Just as all men—how dare you—“

“How dare _you_ presume to speak to me in such a way.” Luke made a dismissive gesture. “I require nothing more from you. See yourself out.”

With one last baleful glare Laura stormed out, and blissful silence filled the office once more. Luke closed his eyes and savored it. Noise filled his days and his nights were restless, but he had this soothing silence every so often, and with it came a measure of peace and true, fulfilling satisfaction that seemed to elude him no matter what he did to chase it. His therapist had a laundry list of reasons and historical causes for his particular set of character faults, but in all honesty, Luke thought it was just that he found people to be tedious and exhausting creatures whenever he tried to do anything but manipulate and control them, and some part of his brain rebelled against that. But the moments of silence he found kept him sane, and he lived for the times when the only one who could shatter his peace was himself.

Which was the next step, naturally. Waving his hand over the privacy controls for the glass so it would darken and shield him from the rest of the peons in the Cube Farm, Luke picked up the remote for his iHome and thumbed a button, and let the music wash over him.

*

“Hey, you're back!”

Looking up from the massive stack of paperwork that had filled her mailbox during her absence, Sylva grinned. “They needed me to come back and keep you from busting up the place, Wodensen. Now that the Stooges Three have been reassigned, anyway.”

“Which is an awful disgrace and was done to get the amount of actual work done around here back up to snuff, I'm convinced.” Thom Wodensen laughed, leaning on her desk. “And I think you mean someone needs to come keep an eye on _you,_ Detective Sylva Skjold. You keep getting yourself hurt in the line of duty. Eventually they're not going to accept your worker's compensation claims anymore.”

Sylva made a show of stretching to demonstrate that she was feeling fine. “I heal fast, at least. And I cleared my medical. That's all that matters, right?”

“I'm glad to see you well, Sylva.” Thom smiled, and her heart lifted. “It's been boring without you.”

“I'm glad to be back.” She collected her mail and walked with him back to their desks, side by side in the middle of a room full of activity. “What's our first stop?”

They collected their paperwork and their gear and set off. Sylva relished it; she'd hated every minute of the two months of enforced convalescence that she'd had to endure, and though her doctors had been surprised with how quickly she'd recovered, she'd been incredibly pleased. She had dedicated herself to protecting her community and making up for the bad reputation of the NYPD. She didn't belong in a bed with bandages over her ribs; she belonged out here, looking after her people. And it was surprisingly easy to get back into her habits. Sylva trusted her training, and whenever she wavered, she rubbed the pendant around her neck. It had always brought her good luck, after all, and sometimes she needed a bit of that.

“So how was it anyway, being cooped up in bed?” Thom asked as they walked down Park toward a Starbucks for a coffee. “In the hospital, right after the fire, you seemed....”

“Disoriented? Yeah, I was. Those painkillers they had me on didn't mess around – I had weird dreams, hallucinations, the whole lot. But I didn't feel so much as a twinge, which the doctors said was good, because I had burns in addition to the broken bones I got when the floor caved in under me. Still made them take me off them as soon as I could deal with the pain without crying.”

“Can't blame you.”

“Anyway, after that it got easier. Just lots of not moving and weekly x-rays.” And more medication to help her sleep without dreaming about the conflagration she'd run into, but Thom didn't need to know about that. The guy looked like a MMA fighter but he was as gentle as a puppy and had a heart of gold to boot. She didn't want him to worry over her more than he obviously already had.

“Not moving? _You?_ ”

“Yeah, I was climbing the walls after—hey! Watch it!” Sylva turned to glare at the tall, dark-haired man in a suit now walking away without any indication he cared that he'd nearly run down a NYPD detective. “Anyway, I'm back where I belong now,” she finished as Thom held the door open for her. “Protecting and serving.”

*

Luke didn't get back to his apartment until well after ten o'clock that night. He always meant to leave at a normal hour to do things that normal people did, like get groceries and go to the gym and maybe _relax_ for a bit over tea and one of his many books, but perhaps unsurprisingly he had started going over information about a potential client he was meeting tomorrow and hadn't looked up until it was dark outside. Groceries were ordered online, his gym bag stayed in the trunk of his Audi, and at eleven o'clock he was in pajamas in his kitchen, putting away the delivered grocery order with a pit stop to wash his pills down with some water. He'd pointed out the absurdity of having one antidepressant and then a second to counteract the ill effects of the first, but it did keep him leveled out, and if he had his fiery dreams, at least he rarely remembered them.

Glancing at his phone (Twitter alerts, mail from the gym he paid for but rarely attended, three texts from Laura demanding various things), Luke left it charging on the counter and got into bed. The lights were dimmed, and through the floor-to-ceiling windows Luke could see the city glowing – at least until he pushed one of the buttons on a wall panel and blackout curtains closed over them, blocking out all light.

When he slept it was lightly and restlessly; he awoke the next morning in a tangle of sheets drenched in sweat, as usual, pulled a cup from the cabinet and poured his French-pressed coffee, as usual, and turned on the news as he made breakfast.

“Accused of murder and numerous other charges, Lucian Thanos was nonetheless released on bail this morning. Sources claim he has retained noted defense attorney Luke Serrure—“

Luke smiled thinly into his coffee. “Not just yet,” he murmured. “Money hasn't changed hands.” But Mr. Thanos had approached him and with a toothy smile that unsettled Luke even over Skype had informed him that taking this case would mean Luke's career launching into orbit. And for all the disquiet, Luke had thought him correct; if he won he would be Senior Partner within the year, and perhaps Helena would finally realize she could not run the firm without another pair of hands to help her perfectly-manicured ones and make him Managing Partner soon after, and then, surely, he would be content because he would be at the top of things.

What he would not admit to himself was that seeing that smile in that dark face had stoked a deep-seated fear in the heart of him, and even as he'd agreed to meet Mr. Thanos, he'd felt a chill run through his body. But the thought of being propelled to the highest heights was something Luke could not ignore; he had never lost a case, and he did not plan to start with this one.

Coffee in hand and breakfast consumed, Luke put on a suit – Tom Ford, today, he had to look his best – and left.

Everyone greeted him at the firm in an expanding wave of ingratiation. Interns poked their heads up out of their fortresses of books and briefs to watch their ruler make his progress from elevator lobby to office. He had barely set his coffee down on his desk before Leeahn, his _extremely_ resourceful and conniving personal assistant, materialized beside him. Leeahn, like most members of the small army of assistants and paralegals that kept the office running, was skilled in far more than taking phone calls and scheduling appointments. Luke had decided that if he trusted anyone he trusted her, which said a lot about her because he had known almost from the day she'd appeared in his office with a smile to say that she'd been assigned to help him that she reported everything he did to Helena. But trust her he did, and that was why she got away with doing and saying other things to him that most of the _senior partners_ wouldn't dare, and more useful than that, she remembered _everything._

“I trust you were here half the night reading about the Thanos case,” she said. “So I won't remind you that he and his media circus will be here at quarter to ten.”

“Noted.”

“Interest memos for senior partner are due on the thirtieth of this month. Shall I draw up something suitably full of buzzwords, or can you manage?”

“It would be slightly more honest if it came from me, don't you think?”

Leeahn snorted and tossed her long black ponytail over her shoulder, somehow making the motion disdainful. “And Laura is talking about you to anyone who will listen.”

“Hardly surprising. What damage needs controlling?”

“Oh, I wouldn't worry. It's going to be dealt with today.”

“Ominous,” Luke murmured, but he grinned at the twinkle in her eye. Leeahn had no use at all for people like Laura and was not shy about who knew it. Doubtless she'd been planning something for several weeks and relished the opportunity to unleash it.

“Glad you think so, Mr. Serrure.” Her emerald-green heels sunk into the carpet as she walked out of the office. “You know how to call me.”

At twenty to ten he slipped Lucian Thanos' file under his arm and made sure the conference room next to his office was set up properly. Tablet and file were placed on one side of the long table, and at exactly ten o'clock, Luke rose to shake hands with Lucian Thanos, accused murderer, potential client. The cameras had not prepared him; Mr. Thanos towered over him, and Luke had last measured in at over six feet tall himself. But he felt small and lean next to this man, and quickly motioned that they sit at the table and begin.

“So, if I may ask—“ _always put it that way, always act as though the client has a choice when even they know they've come to Mr. Luke Serrure, Esquire, because they're desperate to win_ “—what made you choose me out of the rest of Seider's fine defense team?”

“I'm familiar with your work, of course.”

Luke raised his eyebrows. “Of course.”

“Your reputation has long preceded you, Luke Serrure. But I think perhaps we will both regain things in this effort.”

“Regain?”

The twist of Mr. Thanos' mouth was less rueful and more amused. “Slip of the tongue. Prison is not good for my mental well-being.”

“I can't imagine it would be. But you speak as though I've already accepted your request.”

“I already know you will.” Mr. Thanos folded his hands, causing one of the stones in his rings to flash green in the light filtering in through the blinds. “I know you like to take risks; you could not possibly resist this chance. Mine is the kind of case that can change the course of your career; I know your ambitions, Mr. Serrure, as you know my desire to remain free of cell walls. I hope you enjoy mutually beneficial arrangements as much as I do.”

Luke found himself speechless; not only had Mr. Thanos read him quite well, but had done so well enough to walk the razor edge of threat and make it stick. But he knew that refusal now would only ring false; they both knew he wanted this, and so he had no choice but to smile and simply touched a few icons on his iPad. “A bill has been sent to your e-mail address. It has a base retainer fee outlined, as well as my hourly rate and other anticipated costs. I trust you are able...?”

“I paid my own bail. I assure you, Mr. Serrure,” and Mr. Thanos pulled out his own phone and worked the screen for a moment. “The money is already transferred to the appropriate account.”

Despite how strangely the meeting had begun, Luke felt at ease now, powerful, _invincible_ even. His career would skyrocket after this victory, and he would be unstoppable.

“Then I believe we are on the clock. Shall we begin?”

*

Sylva glanced up from the report she was typing as the whispering around the TV grew.

“What's going on?” she asked, leaning around her monitor to see a small crowd gathered. One of the new deputies looked back over his shoulder.

“Lucian Thanos got out and got himself a lawyer.”

“That guy Thom and I nabbed for all those murders? He's _out of custody?_ ” Sylva felt hot anger begin in the pit of her stomach.

“That's the guy. You're not going to like who his counsel is, either.”

“What scumbag lawyer...” Slyva got up and pushed through the gathering to see the screen. It was a press conference, and the serpent who had opted to defend a known murderer (and innocent until proven guilty be damned for _this_ psycho) was speaking.

“...chance at justice, and I am confident that we will be able to find reasonable doubt in my client's case.”

“Luke Serrure,” Sylva read off the screen. “I hate this asshole.”

“You'd better get ready for a ride,” Commander Tyre told her after she'd gone into his office to share the bad news. “Just before I made commander I went up against this kid. He _was_ a kid then, not six months out of law school but he'd already been snapped up by his firm. I thought I had an open and shut case, no chance of anything but a guilty verdict, but it's like this guy's got a magic voice. He got the guy off. A sex offender walked free, and it was only the beginning of this guy's win streak.”

“But the evidence against Lucian Thanos is rock solid. We've got multiple witnesses, forensic evidence, the guy practically _confessed_ —“

“I know. You and Wodensen did a solid job and put your case together well... but I'm warning you to be prepared for Serrure to pull something off. It's like he bewitches juries into eating out of his hands.”

Annoyed, Sylva spent the rest of the day unable to concentrate, angry that the best investigative work she'd ever done was even in question from some slick defense lawyer, and looking up Luke Serrure's career only made her more wrathful. From the commander's case onward through the last ten years, Serrur had a sustained streak of pulling out acquittals from what should have been easy convictions. He so flummoxed juries that if they _didn't_ come back with a verdict of not guilty, they hung.

When Thom showed up later, he got to listen to a litany of Serrure's many sins until he manged to get a word in when she paused to catch her breath.

“Sylva—look, I know this isn't ideal—but we made our case ironclad before we ever moved on Lucian Thanos. There's nothing he can do to call that into question.”

“ _All_ these cases have been rock solid, Thom. But every single one of them he's managed to let some sicko walk free on the streets...”

“Sylva.” Thom had a calm way about him, but something commanding in his tone of voice made her bite back, rein in the rest of what she was going to say. “I know you're worried but the trial doesn't even have a judge or a start date yet. Don't get ahead of yourself.”

She inhaled, counted to five, and let it out. “You're right. I just... don't want to take chances. This guy should be in a deep, dark hole, not getting a lawyer and letting his smug face be broadcast on every news channel in the world.”

“We'll prepare as best we can for it. That's all we can do.”

“I guess.” Sylva put her head in her hands. “Why. _Why._ ”

“You have to be kept on your toes.” Thom slapped her on the shoulder. “Come on. This city doesn't stop just because a murderer lawyers up, and we're going out for drinks later. You free?”

“If I say no, you'll just know I'm lying about going home and drinking an entire bottle of wine by myself while watching shows on the History channel until I can't keep my eyes open.”

“Then you've no excuses. See you after work, Sylva.”

*

“Another successful day,” Leeahn said from the door. “The press ate your little spiel up.”

“Then I haven't lost my touch.” Luke shuffled the pile of papers on his desk. Despite being perfectly pleasant, Mr. Thanos made him feel a strange sense of unease even when _not_ obviously trying to. He'd developed a headache after the press conference and even the extra-strength painkillers he kept in his desk didn't stop the sharp, stabbing pains.

“Anything I can get for you before you leave?”

“The name of the strongest migraine medication available in any country.”

“I can do one better.” She left and returned with two pills and a bottle of water.

“What am I about to throw back?”

“Imitrex. Trust me, this knocks anything down.”

Luke swallowed them and half the bottle of water in one go. “Hope these work. It feels like I'm about to start seeing things.” He had, actually; it had started with the usual imagined insects crawling up the walls, but had progressed over the course of the afternoon to seeing Mr. Thanos' face swim in front of his eyes, shift and change into something alien and terrifying, or appear as though it was only a thin veneer over something else, some far more horrible truth. Every time that had happened his headache had worsened.

“Give it half an hour to kick in, but it's Friday anyway, so you can go distract yourself. Pick someone up at the bar, spend your weekend naked. You'll feel better.”

“Does that work for you, Leeahn?”

“It may work for _you._ Goodbye, Mr. Serrure.”

He tried to work a little longer but even the solitude of the empty office didn't ease the tension in his body, and while his headache did ebb away, he couldn't concentrate. After he'd read the same page a report three times, Luke shut everything down for the weekend and left. There was a bar he sometimes visited, not far from his apartment; it was rarely host to _any_ filthy tourists, which was a point in his favor, and was crowded but not uncomfortably so and lacked the humid air of other, more populated bars. 

The bouncer waved him past the line of people waiting to get in, and after he'd ordered a drink, Luke took in the other patrons. It was the usual mix of lawyers at less well-known firms trying to get noticed by those who worked for the big names, successful bankers, and other lesser forms of life trying to feel fancy. The cluster of people at the other end of the polished bar seemed to fall into the last group, loudly chattering away and laughing uproariously. They almost drowned out the music coming from the band at the other end of the room whenever they got loud. Luke sighed – this was the price he paid for listening to advice that involved human interaction – and put in an order for one of the bar's many famous burgers. Between medication, alcohol, and food, he felt more human than he had all day. Maybe the human interaction was worth it, and he could stave off having to defend himself in a murder trial.

*

Sylva was feeling pretty damn good.

She'd run into a store and gotten a dress – there wasn't time to run all the way back up to her apartment and then _back_ into the city to meet everyone at the bar, and it wouldn't be the first time she'd changed in a McDonald's restroom. She'd finger-combed her hair in the car to relax it after fourteen hours in a ponytail, and figured she even looked less _law enforcement_ than usual.

Thom had greeted her enthusiastically when she'd made it in. He'd called in the Three Stooges – Frank, Vince, and quiet Harry – to join them, and she'd been delighted, filling them in on her recovery, accepted their well-wishes for the trial (“you will need it,” Harry had said grimly) and ordered her something with a high enough alcohol content to make her forget her anger earlier. Two more drinks in, she was feeling _pretty damn good._

And then Frank had to open his mouth.

“Hey, he said, blissfully caught in the throes of alcohol impairment that made him think this might be a good idea, “Isn't that the defense for your guy Thanos?”

It was like the whole world shattered as soon as he said that. Sylva no longer felt Pretty Damn Good, she felt Fucking Pissed, and it muse have shown on her face because suddenly everyone looked concerned.

“We can go somewhere else,” Vince said quickly, pulling out his wallet to pay their tab.

“Might be a good idea,” Frank added.

“It's about time to go home anyway, I think,” Thom said. “Come on, Sylva—“

“Hell no,” she snapped. The drinks had overridden her usual caution, and without a second thought she dodged the hands of her friends, marching over to the man at the end of the bar.

*

“Are you Luke Serrure?”

He didn't look over until he'd finished his bite of food and washed it down. Whoever it was trying to interrupt his night, they could damn well wait.

When he finally turned, it was to see the most intensely beautiful, obviously angry woman he'd ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on. And when he met _her_ eyes, brown-green and narrowed and bright, something, some strange warmth where there was usually only ice, burned through to the core of him. It was the second time that day that he found himself tongue-tied, and he could not discern why, only wait until it lifted.

“I don't do autographs,” he told her. “I do other things, though.”

For a minute she gaped at him, and Luke entertained the notion that she had felt the same _something_ that he had a moment ago. Then her jaw set again and he dismissed the notion as uselessly sentimental in a world where any softness was weakness.

“You're defense for Lucian Thanos,” she said. It wasn't a question, and he raised his eyebrows a fraction as he took another pull from his glass.

“You watch the news?”

“How can you _live_ with yourself? You must know what he did.”

“I know what he is _accused_ of doing. The truth may be somewhat muddier, I feel. As for your question...” he turned back to the last few fries on his plate. “I live quite comfortably, thank you.”

“Don't look away from me, jackass.” The woman grabbed his shoulder and Luke twisted with liquid grace, breaking her hold and standing.

“I would think twice before putting hands on a lawyer who's never lost a case.”

“First time for everything.”

“Okay, that's enough, Sylva.” A large blond man came up behind the angry woman – Sylva – and got a firm grip on her arms. “Please forgive her, she's—“

“Come off it, Thom, you were as mad as I was—“

“You're drunk. Let's go before you do something you'll _really_ regret.” The blond man smiled tightly and began to lead her away, and Luke inexplicably felt rage and jealousy bubble to the surface of his mind, which was probably why he spoke.

“No, let the lady talk,” he said icily. “I think once she does, we'll both know who's more mature here.”

It came so fast that he didn't know what was happening until Sylva's fist connected with his nose. Luke stumbled back, the bartender started yelling, and her friend started hauling her toward the door as she spat insults at him, her friend, and Mr. Thanos, and all he could think was—

“Remarkable,” Luke muttered, fingers holding a napkin to his nose. “You're stronger than you look.”

“And you're even more like pond scum than I thought, Serrure!”

“I do hope you know this isn't the last you'll be seeing of me, my lady,” he told her mockingly. The grin he got back was all wolfish, and he felt that warmth again as it trickled down his spine into his belly.

“Good. Bring it on,” she told him, and her eyes were mesmerizing in the light. “I'll be waiting.”

Her friend dragged her off, and the whole group left the bar. Luke could hear the woman snapping the whole way until the door closed behind them, and people went back to their conversations.

“I apologize for that, sir,” the bartender said. “You know it doesn't usually happen here. She was gunning for you though... you kill her in a past life or something?”

“I must have.” Luke pulled a $50 out of his wallet and put it on the bar. “For your trouble. I think my night is over.”

*

When they got back to the cars, Thom turned round and demanded, “What in _hell's name_ were you _thinking?_ ”

“I—ugh, my head—“ Sylva pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes. The headache meant she was starting to sober up and think about what had just happened. “I don't _know_ , Thom, something just came over me.”

“Well, something's going to come over this case now, too. You just assaulted the defense counsel, Sylva!”

“I _know!_ ” Sylva grit her teeth, dug her fingers into her scalp. “I know, I just...”

Thom sighed and they were both quiet for a moment. When he spoke again it was much calmer. “Come on, give me your keys. I'll take you home and get you settled in and Frank will drive your car back.”

Sylva leaned her head against the window as Thom navigated city traffic on the way home. Her headache became a dull throb that echoed the vibrations of the wheels going over the road, and with physical and temporal distance the reality of what she'd just done set in. The outcome of the case was already in question, and she'd just added more fuel to the defense's fire.

“Just came back and I'm going to be fired,” she muttered. Thom snorted.

“You always do cause waves. It's in your nature.” He glanced over with a smile. “You wouldn't be you if you didn't.”

“That's true. I'm sorry, Thom. I shouldn't have put you in that position.”

“He was provoking you, too. Don't worry about it... yet.”

*

Fire had already raced through this part of the battlefield, and he could feel the heat of it through his boots as he crossed the blackened soil. There were crumpled, scorched forms all around him, but without looking he knew none of them were the person he sought. She was still ahead, still alive.

In a circle of unburned earth, surrounded on all sides by the charred bodies of her foes, he found her. The enchantments he'd laid on her shield (in days that seemed to have taken place in another world, and in reality probably had) had protected her from the flames, but the blades of the army he commanded had found their marks when fatigue and heartache had taken their toll on her, and even the greatest warrior the Nine Realms had ever known had her limits. Expecting it as he was it still struck him as wrong to see her crumpled and pierced by swords, her life's blood leaking into the earth.

For all that this had come about by his hand, he still knelt and cradled her against him, and the emotion in his voice was raw and true. “I'm so sorry,” he whispered, his fingers in her singed black hair. “If you had but agreed... if you had come with me...”

She coughed, and a bubble of blood popped at the corner of her mouth. “I would rather die honorably than live faithlessly,” she rasped. He tightened his grip, holding her closer even as she whispered her last damning words.

“I would never have joined you.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Did you get in a _fight?_ ”

Luke jolted himself out of his thoughts. The dream had changed last night, and instead of reviewing notes for his upcoming depositions, he’d been contemplating dreams. But Leeahn was not going away until she had something to report back to Helena, and Luke had long since stopped caring if the managing partner at his firm knew what he was doing with his life.

“I got punched in a bar, if that constitutes a fight.”

“ _You_ were at a _bar?_ One with _people_ in it?”

“I go out,” Luke muttered, flipping restlessly through pages in his notes. Leeahn cocked her hip and watched him, an eyebrow raised.

“Only when you want to get laid. Did you?”

“I went to a bar to celebrate getting the case that will make my career. I did not get laid.”

“Then what was the point?”

“To do what I wanted before I get consumed by this case. Which _you_ should be scheduling depositions for, if I recall my instructions correctly.”

Spy or not, Leeahn took the hint and clicked her heels together, sketching a salute before sauntering out of his office. Once she was gone he activated the privacy controls on his office again and went back to reading, or tried to, anyway. Even as his pen scudded across the paper while he took notes, his mind wandered back to Friday night, to the bar, and to the woman responsible for the spreading bruises on his face. He’d spent the weekend Googling around and searching Twitter and Facebook for any hint of the mysterious Sylva, but it seemed like she was some kind of ghost, or at least she was smart enough to hide her social media profiles from people she didn’t want seeing them. And despite the many long hours he’d spent convincing himself that it was just to track her down and slap her with assault charges, part of him knew it went far beyond that. There had been heady warmth all through him when he’d looked at her, and all he wanted was to feel that again.

Luke accomplished far less that day than he should have and drove home annoyed with his own preoccupation. She was some random woman – why on Earth should he be so fixated? Leaning his head on the cool glass of his building’s elevator, Luke closed his eyes. He couldn’t afford distractions now; a lot more than a verdict rode on the outcome of the Thanos murders case.

Just outside the elevator he paused, digging his keys out of his pocket, staring at his reflection in the mirror at the end of the hall without really seeing it. All it showed him was the same haughty, well-dressed man it had reflected that morning as he’d swept out of his apartment…

Then he paused, slowly lowering his hand. The keys jingled slightly as he did, but he didn’t hear it, not really. It was too normal a sound, and he was more focused on the fact that his reflection mimicked his movements a beat behind him rather than in tandem.

His reflection appeared to walk toward him, and as they got closer Luke thought he heard the whisper of a second pair of feet on the hallway carpet. Was the reflection wearing a more sly expression? Was it not going to stop at his door – would it keep going, keep walking, until it reached him and passed him and _became_ him – 

His reflection slowed, turned as he did to open the door, and as soon as he got through Luke slammed the door shut and threw the latch. He stood there, back pressed against the door, barely daring to breathe and straining to hear any sound in the hallway. At last, feeling foolish, Luke waved his hand over the light controls and the apartment brightened cheerily, news feeds activating on the windows and filling the space with a sense of safety and comfort.

_Stress,_ Luke thought. _A cup of tea and an Ambien tonight. That’ll take care of it._

*

“What the _hell_ were you thinking, Skjold?”

Shoulders back, chin up, Sylva privately swore off all alcohol forever. “I wasn’t thinking, Commander. I was under the influence and I acted irresponsibly.”

“Damn right you did.” Commander Tyre rubbed his forehead. “I’m placing you on administrative leave, with pay, until such time as I can resolve the mess you’ve created or pending any action by Internal Affairs. Turn in your gun and badge.”

“I just—“

“You should have thought about the fact you’d just returned before you decked the defense counsel in your case. You should have thought, _period._ I’m disappointed, Skjold. You’re better than this.”

“I know, Commander.” Sylva ran a hand through her hair. “I just got so… _mad_ , when I saw him.”

“I know you wanted to put this guy away without a fight, but that’s not what you’re getting.” Tyre sighed. “I’ll do what I can and speak to whoever I can in IA about this, but don’t hold your breath for getting off the hook completely. You made a big mistake, Sylva. You’re going to have to deal with the consequences.”

“I’d expect nothing less.” Sylva rose. “Thank you for not sacking me outright, sir.”

“Everyone deserves due process. Even hothead detectives.” Tyre smiled just slightly. “Go on home now, Sylva. Go get your head on straight. Don’t watch the news. Got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

Thom was waiting for her when she got out, an expectant look on his face. “Administrative leave,” she told him. “Indefinite.”

“Could have been worse. I still wish I could understand why you did it, Sylva.”

“Believe me, I wish I could understand that myself.” Sylva turned in her badge and gun and leaned on the counter as she waited for the paperwork, fingertips massaging her temple. “I just… something came over me.”

“No shit. You didn’t even look like yourself at _all_. It was your face, but… someone else was home.”

“Yeah, her name is Drunk Sylva, and she will _never_ be coming to visit _again._ ”

“Smart.”

“I have my moments.”

She promised to keep Thom updated and left, driving aimlessly around the city for a while until she went home. She’d been struggling with her reaction to Serrure all weekend. It made no _sense_ to her; even drunk, she had better sense than picking a fight like this. Not that she _never_ did, but at least those didn’t have the same kinds of consequences. She should have known better, and that was what bothered her.

What got her even more, though, was what had happened when their eyes had met. Not just the mix of anger and hurt – both of which she could rationalize – but the passion, the _want_ , the warmth. Those confused her. Why on Earth would she feel anything like that for _him?_

She’d pulled up Serrure’s Twitter over the weekend, and after a gym session largely unsuccessful in banishing impure thoughts from her mind, Sylva pulled it up again. She was an investigator; she would dig up all the info she could on Serrure to try and figure out why he might have elicited what she had felt. Nothing jumped out at her as she scrolled through the year of tweets he’d made, but she linked a few Instagram posts in her document for the sake of research and pulled the printeout she’d gotten from work out of her purse. Before confessing her sin to Tyre, she’d grabbed all she could on Luke Serrure, using every one of her law enforcement avenues available. Probably a misuse of power, but she had already punched him, so she felt like she could probably get away with a lot.

As far as she could tell after poring over the documents and records, Serrure had no criminal record, no credit problems (though he had an impressive line of credit). There were some inconsistencies, but every single one was accompanied by a note explaining its presence and resolution. She doubted that he would have gotten a job at one of the most prestigious law firms in the city if there had been any issues; Seider had an extremely choosy application process. Besides, clerical departments made mistakes, as she well knew.

Nothing about any of that told her why she might dream about him or feel what she had felt about him, and despite following out acquaintances as far as she could on her own, Sylva could find no shared friends or connections between them. Until Friday night they had never met. She kept at it for a while longer, but after she’d failed at all of them she put her laptop away in disgust, no closer to any answers. Maybe it _had_ just been the alcohol in her body reacting to the presence of an attractive man (a fact which she grudgingly admitted). 

Many people were surprised she’d resisted Thom, and while they’d gone on a couple dates, they’d realized pretty quickly that they only had friendship and respect for each other. He’d seemed to be waiting for her to say something else every time she’d spoken, and Sylva had found herself wanting in their conversations every time he tried to be affectionate – or she felt smothered. They’d since put aside any attraction. It made going out into the field knowing they might get shot a little bit easier for both of them. Sylva knew her first duty was to her city, to protect and serve, and she couldn’t put fulfillment of that on the line just because someone she cared about might get hurt. Thom knew the risks as well. He could handle it. Not that she hadn’t looked, of course – just because she didn’t buy the product didn’t mean she couldn’t window-shop, and Thom was a mightily attractive man – but Sylva pursed her lips as she touched Serrure’s face on his dossier again, wondering what it was about him.

“It’s because he’s a jackass,” she muttered. “One who might fuck over the best investigative work of my career.”

But that wasn’t all and she knew it. Sylva had felt like she was familiar with him, like this kind of behavior was somehow known and expected and had been seen a thousand times before. She pondered that thought over spiked hot chocolate, and at last concluded it was all in her head, or because she’d spent too much time glaring at his smug-ass face on the news.

_I just need to get some distance from it,_ she thought as she crawled into bed hours later. _When all this blows over, I’ll be able to get him out of my head._

*

She walked through a long hall filled with golden statues. Through gaps in the columns she could see a city, glittering even in the dull light of the long winter. She wore a warm cloak over her gown, for after so many years in the sun she could feel the chill down to her marrow. She had warm blood, and the cold frightened something deep in her.

People in the hall called out to her, waved and smiled or bowed their heads in respect. She responded in kind, but did not stop; she had a destination in mind, and she had to get there, to see him before he started whatever it was that he had been scheming. At last she found him, alone before a statue of a bearded man with an eyepatch, and pulled her cloak more tightly around her.

“The air grows colder around you, Silvertongue,” she said.

“I feel warmth no more. What cause do I have?” His laugh bore the same chill as the rest of the realms. “My sons are dead or imprisoned because of the king – your _husband_ \- for whom I know you bear no true love—“

“Do you speak now of love as though it matters to you?” she asked harshly. “It did not when your _brother_ the king thought you dead, nor when I asked it of you after we found out your deception, not even when I bore your son before any child of his.”

“And I have had to watch him grow under Thor’s indelicate hand.”

“You could have changed that.” She tilted her chin up proudly, pushing away the heartache that had scarred long ago. “You know it was never I who was meant to sit at Thor’s right hand, to be his queen. I _offered_ \--“

“Out of pity. Out of _convenience._ ”

“Out of _love._ You could have been a father to Ullr if you had turned from this path long ago.”

“You know I cannot.” His voice was quiet, almost sad. “I must play my part. We all must… even you, _my lady._ ”

“I know I will not accept that.”

“You will not have a choice. You turned that down, remember?”

“Because I was tired of your secrets! You had been banished – and here I find you again,” she muttered, “Always disregarding the rules…”

“I hope you do not intend to make that admonishment stick. And remember… you had the choice, once, but much like my own it has been taken away from you.”

“We always have a choice, Loki.”

She reached up to turn his face toward her but his skin burned her fingers, and though he looked upon her with red eyes glaring out of a blue face, she would know those fine features anywhere.

*

Luke called Leeahn’s desk and told her he’d be in for the deposition scheduled that afternoon and promptly fell back asleep. The night had been full of fiery dreams, and he’d awoken in a cold sweat hours before his alarm, unable to relax enough again.

A few hours later he managed to drag himself out of bed for good and took his time showering and eating, letting his headache ebb away in the wake of the four ibuprofen he’d taken with his coffee. That helped when he had to brave snarled midday traffic on the way to work.

“There he is,” Leeahn sang out as he opened his office door and dropped his bag on the couch. “My lady wants to see you.”

Luke paused. “Did she say why?”

“Checking in on her favorite junior partner, no doubt.”

Luke smiled, knowing it was not sincere. “No doubt. When—“

“As soon as you’re in, she said.”

“Excellent,” Luke muttered, and walked across the Cube Farm to the door labeled _Helena Thrym, Managing Partner_. Before he even knocked, he heard a silky voice call out from inside.

“Come in, Luke,” she said when he opened the door. “Sit, please.”

Luke did not trust Helena any farther than he could throw her; granted, he didn’t trust many people at all, but Helena was so much like him in so many ways that it became even harder. She smiled when he sat down as asked in one of the black leather chairs. “How are you doing?”

“Quite all right, thank you, Helena.”

“Not feeling overwhelmed at all?”

“I’m handling my work admirably. Has there been some question…?” He kept his voice politely curious, but bristled inside. _Damn Leeahn…_

“Leeahn mentioned you came in late today and that you weren’t feeling well.”

“Late night, that’s all.” Luke’s smile was as thin as hers. “Nothing to worry about. I merely wanted to be rested enough for my deposition this afternoon.”

“Good. I needn’t tell you about the importance of this case you’re on now. It’s one that could define the trajectory of not just your career, but of the firm as a whole.”

“Believe me, I am giving Mr. Thanos the attention and diligence he deserves.”

“Of course you are. But do let me know if there’s anything to be done for you, any assistance. Yes?”

“Yes.” Luke rose. “If there’s nothing else?”

“Nothing else.” Helena made a dismissive gesture, already turning back to the papers on her desk, and Luke turned on his heel and left the office, ignored Leeahn’s knowing smirk as he passed her, and shut himself away to prepare. His first unfortunate victim was one of the detectives on the case, one Thom Wodensen. He went to the conference room early to make sure everything was set up to his satisfaction, and when a large blond man was escorted in by Leeahn, Luke rose slowly, giving him the most superior look he could. A grand feat of acting, for Thom was the blond man from the bar.

“Mr. Wodensen,” he said as they shook hands. “Have a seat.”

The chair creaked under Thom’s muscled bulk, which luckily covered the sound of Luke swallowing as he sat and shuffled his notepad and papers completely uselessly. “I’ve never actually met you, Mr. Serrure,” he said calmly.

“Well, today is certainly your _lucky day._ ” Luke folded his hands to keep them from fidgeting and made himself look Thom in the eye. For some reason he felt quite ashamed of all this posturing, possibly because he could tell that the man exuded genuine confidence while his was but a sham, and that this would not be an easy deposition for him to maintain control of.

He reminded Thom that they were speaking under oath, and after the questions had begun things got substantially easier. It was an easy rhythm, and let him refocus after that shock. He should have done better research; it wasn’t good to let himself be surprised like this, especially not when he was obviously already under Helena’s microscope. Thom was luckily as practiced at being deposed as Luke was at giving them, and the two of them got through all the questions in good time, working together to clear up anything. Thom stayed remarkably calm through it all, and Luke found himself relaxing too. That was good, because half his mind remained on the question of how to casually bring up the mysterious Sylva.

“That’s all, then,” he said when they were done. “No further questions. You’re dismissed.”

He turned the recording equipment off and summoned Leeahn to escort Thom back. “Oh,” he said offhandedly as they waited for her to materialize, “About last Friday…”

Thom grimaced. “I apologize for Sylva,” he rumbled, running a hand over his face. “She’s taken news of you joining this case rather poorly, I fear.”

“So it would seem.”

“You’ll be able to ask her about it soon. She said you’re deposing her tomorrow.”

Luke didn’t change his expression but his hands shook just slightly. “Oh – yes, I remember now,” he said, not nearly as smoothly as he should have. Thom gave him a quizzical look, but said nothing. “I’ll certainly be asking her to pay for my hospital bills.”

“Be sure to post that part of the recording on YouTube. I would pay to see her reaction.” They shook hands, and Leeahn finally appeared to show Thom out of the building.

Back in his office, Luke tore through the pile of files and material on the Thanos case until at last he held one labeled _Skjold, Sylva_ in shaking hands, unable to quell the rising excitement at the prospect of seeing her face to face once more.

*

“So did he say anything about it?”

Thom didn’t bother to finish chewing or swallow before replying, and Sylva tried to work out the translation of _ah eee eh yef_ while flinching back from flying food particles. Looking sheepish, Thom swallowed and took a drink of water as Sylva dramatically wiped her face with a napkin.

“At the end, yes,” he repeated. “But he didn’t seem mad about it, strangely enough. If anything…” Thom furrowed his brow, a single fry dripping with ketchup dangling from his fingers, “He seemed excited at the prospect.”

“Probably because he plans to skewer me.”

“No, it wasn’t that kind of excitement. It was almost like…” Thom trailed off, shrugged. “I don’t know. The guy’s an enigma, I don’t think he even knows himself that well.”

“Hunh.” Sylva picked at her salad, pushing strips of chicken around on a soggy bed of lettuce. “Thought for sure I’d have been slapped with a lawsuit by now.”

“Maybe he’s going to just try and discredit you and considers that punishment enough.”

“You don’t sound sure about that.”

“I am not. He ought to have done something by now, that’s been his method with everything else, but he hasn’t, and I don’t know why. What’s he waiting for?”

“Who knows?” Sylva glanced at her phone when it vibrated and made a face. “And my calendar just reminded me my deposition’s tomorrow, as if I could possibly forget the semi-public humiliation I’m going to receive.”

“Perhaps it will not be that bad. And if you figure it out after tomorrow, let me know. I would know Serrure’s mind before we have to see him again in a courtroom.”

Sylva left when Thom had to get back to work, and ended up following her feet into Central Park. Something about the paths that led through the Ramble, shaded and almost tunnel-like and halfway wild, soothed her. At this hour there weren’t many people out, and it wasn’t tourist season, so there were long stretches of time where she was the only person on the path. She lost herself in thought.

After a while, though, she began to get a prickly sensation between her shoulder blades, the feeling of being watched growing stronger until she had to pause and sneak a look along her backtrail to see if she was being followed. There was only one man back there, but she almost called out to him until she realized it _wasn’t_ actually Serrure following her. He looked similar enough though, with a head of thick dark hair and fine features. But when the light hit his eyes they weren’t icy blue, and he seemed broader in the shoulder, and after another couple of sneaky looks she could see that his facial features were just different enough not to withstand scrutiny. But they could still have been twins, this man and Serrure, and so she began to take twisted routes, seeing if he would continue to follow her.

He did, and she made her way toward Bethesda Fountain. It was more crowded there, lots of people standing around and watching the fountain or looking up at the beautiful sky, but her tail stuck with her the whole way. He was trying to be casual, but he kept watching her longingly. Strange.

Sylva began to twist and turn, slowly winding around to where she would pass him on her own trail, but just as she turned a corner and prepared to triumphantly confront him, she realized he was gone. On edge, she glanced around the shady park area she was in, looking for that oddly familiar face, a tall man with dark hair, but she didn’t see him anywhere. He’d apparently just vanished into thin air.

Feeling more shaken than she cared to admit, Sylva left the park and headed home. It was just nerves, she thought. Just nerves.

*

He watched her walk off and take the stairs down to the subway, an ache in his chest that he couldn’t get rid of. He’d tracked everyone down at last, but somehow seeing her – seeing his _mother_ \- it made him break his non-interference rule. He’d been able to resist seeing his father and the man who had been the only real father-figure he’d known (and Thor had loved his nephew as his own, which was more than had ever been asked of him), but…

There had never been anything but love from his mother, and Ullr couldn’t resist seeing her. Sif should have been resentful, bearing the child of a man who had betrayed her home and her heart, but she had instead made sure that he had never wanted for anything, that he knew that whatever his parentage he would always have her. She had endured much with him, and when she had married Thor to try and stabilize the realms she had endured more ridicule. But she had protected him from it.

Ullr sat on a bench in the park for a long time, watching people go by and collecting his thoughts and his composure. At last he rose and left. The situation was already volatile, and there was little time to waste.

*

Luke stared at his computer screen. A part of him was well aware that it was the height of creepiness to have torn through the roster of the NYPD searching for one detective, but her file in the case notes hadn’t provided a picture, and he’d had to be _sure_ it was Sylva, he’d had to _know_. It had almost been a compulsion to do so, and now that he was face-to-virtual-face with her, it was like that moment in the bar all over again.

According to both her profile and the NYPD website, Sylva Skjold had risen quickly in her six years of service, going from rookie to detective at the kind of meteoric pace that he could appreciate, having experienced it himself, the kind of pace that made it clear she felt she had something to prove. And – again, combing through her file – she’d proven herself capable. Recognized twice by department awards, no complaints against her or her work.

Luke brushed his fingers over his nose, the bruises hidden by carefully-applied layers of makeup. She obviously thought quite highly of her work, to take news of his joining the case so seriously. To be fair, though, it was quality work, and he already knew he’d have a hard time poking holes in it even with his skill. 

“Mr. Serrure?”

He twitched and straightened, looking up to see Leeahn smirking at him from the doorway. “Yes?”

“It’s five o’clock. You asked to be reminded.”

“I did. Thank you, Leeahn.”

“You’ve been riveted for the last hour. What are you even working on?”

She was by his side and staring at the screen before he could reply, and with an irritated sigh Luke crossed his arms and sat back, letting her scroll up and down Skjold’s profile page. “The partner of the officer we depo’d today,” he said, letting his voice bite. “The one who punched me.”

“No kidding. She looks like a one-woman army.” Leeahn twisted, leaning on her palms on the desk. “So you’ve been snooping through her history.”

“The better to prepare myself for tomorrow.”

“Uh- _huh_. That’s why you’ve barely moved since I checked in on you last when you usually fidget like a child.”

“I am not a child.” Luke tapped a few keys and shut off his computer, and Leeahn thankfully took the hint and moved away.

“Tomorrow then, Boss,” she replied casually. He glared after her as he packed up, wondering how soon Helena would be calling him into her office now.

After Leeahn had taken the elevator down, Luke closed up his office and headed out himself. As he passed the glass windows his reflection paced a step behind him and its hair was loose instead of tied back in a ponytail, eyes watchful. Luke didn’t notice.

*

Sylva stared at her closet, arms crossed. Normally she’d have gone to this deposition in her uniform, using it like armor against her opponent, but since she was on administrative leave she didn’t have that option. She owned a few suits, but they seemed woefully inadequate for some reason.

“Why is this even an _issue_ ,” she muttered to herself, and grabbed out a few pieces that seemed office-appropriate, or at least appropriate for an off-duty detective to wear when walking into the lair of the enemy. And that was exactly what Serrure was, she reminded herself sternly as she set down heels and accessories to put on tomorrow. Whatever weird things he made her feel, he was still the enemy, and she couldn’t get distracted.

Clothing decisions made, Sylva got dressed for bed and curled up on the couch with a mug of tea and a book, but she couldn’t focus on it enough to unwind. Her eyes kept traveling over to the manila folder she’d stuck half under her laptop, the one full of Serrure’s information. She tried telling herself she was just nervous about confronting him tomorrow, since she had punched him in a drunken fit in a bar, but that didn’t negate the fact that she had dreamed about him, that she’d woken up with cold fingertips and tears on her face.

Finally she gave up and went to bed. There was nothing she could do right now to change tomorrow. She tossed and turned for a long time that night, and her dreams were full of fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, questions/comments/compliments are welcome at my [tumblr.](teslatricity.tumblr.com)


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